


Your Possessions Will Possess You

by orphan_account



Series: Chao's Kink Bingo [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, I just published Het, It's been a while, pervertables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a snooping habit.  He's left alone in Lydia's room.  There was no way this would end well.  But it doesn't end badly, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Possessions Will Possess You

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Oh No!' by Marina and The Diamonds

Stiles was curious. He’d always been curious, from the point he could start asking questions onward. It was part of the reason why he was so good at research - he wanted to _know_ , and working with facts was easier than working with people.

So by now, most of the people who knew Stiles knew not to leave him alone with anything private. Not that he’d blab it to everyone or something - he was nearly as good at keeping secrets as he was at finding things out - but because he just couldn’t help but poke around. Even if it was a room he knew nearly as well as his own, like Scott’s, or one he shouldn’t be in at all, like his dad’s office sans dad, he’s still poke around. Give Stiles Pandora’s box and he’d open it every single time.

But his new friends (well, friends was still probably the wrong word. Pack was better, but Stiles still wasn’t used to it) apparently hadn’t figured that out yet. Which meant that when he and Lydia were together in her room to work on the Bestiary (it was ‘translated’, but translated without any context, which meant everything had to be looked over again), she didn’t know not leave him alone while she took a call.

Even in someone else’ room, this would have been too tempting for Stiles. But the fact that it was _Lydia_ , who he’d been so hung up on for so long. This was his chance to find something - anything - that could be used as a springboard into more conversations, more common interests. He just wanted to understand her, so that he could find a way to show her how good they could be together.

So the second Lydia’s voice faded enough that he knew she wouldn’t hear, Stiles popped up and started to snoop.

Most of it was about what he would have expected - make-up, school supplies, hair things. One drawer on her desk was filled with college textbooks, with higher mathematics and languages. Stiles had to stop himself from giving a low whistle. He knew Lydia was astonishingly smart, but it was something else to be reminded what that meant. There was also a drunk drawer, which he wouldn’t have called, but it was just things like scraps of paper, notepads, a couple of light novels, an extra collar for Prada - 

Wait, what?

It was definitely the sort of collar that they sold at pet supply stores. It had the little ring for a leash and the little paw print pattern. But it wasn’t like the one Prada wore regularly - that one was pink and shiny and practically stolen from Hollywood stereotype. This one was black and oddly masculine for the dog. Not to mention it looked like it was too big and thick to belong to such a little animal...

“What are you doing?” Stiles jumped and whirled around, gripping stupidly to the collar. Lydia was watching him with eyebrows raised. Oddly, she didn’t seem mad. Hell, she wasn’t even irritated. Her expression remained perfectly calm as her perfectly manicured fingernails drummed a beat against the doorframe. It looked like everything was going according to her plan.

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t been as unaware of Stiles’ snooping habit as he thought.

Lips quirking up, Lydia stepped slowly toward her, something feline and predatory in the swing of her hips, and Stiles felt like he should be bolting, or at least backing away. But he was a rabbit staring down an ermine, and he just couldn’t seem to break himself away.

Then she was close, almost too close, and her face bloomed into a predatory smile. Stiles’ knees went weak and he wavered a little, nearly losing his balance. He wanted to fall down and kneel for her, because she had always been a Queen to him, and now she was collecting her due.

Hooking her finger on the collar, Lydia pulled on it a little, and the stupid death grip he had on it dragged him forward a step. They were almost nose to nose now, and her smile hadn’t moved at all. “Were you curious, hm?” She purred, and Stiles gulped. The tone was different. Not the stupid mask she wore for their peers and teachers, or the more real one she showed to the pack. This was closer to how she spoke to Prada. Like a pet. Once the realization registered, Stiles gave a slow, full body shiver. The smile got wider.

Lydia yanked again, this time harder, and the shock loosened his fingers enough that it slipped away. Then, casual and calm, she opened the plastic buckle and slid the collar around Stiles’ neck. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when it fit perfectly. Clicking it into place, Lydia stepped back, tapping her lips with one finger as she inspected him.

That was when the questions came. Why did she have the collar? How did she know he would find it? Why was it set up for human - no, Stiles-use? Above all, _what was going on_?

His mouth fell open to ask, but the finger that had been tapping against her mouth pressed into the soft flesh under his chin, forcing it up and closed. “Quiet,” she ordered, voice as casually authoritative as it was when getting Prada to do tricks. So he did. Hell, surprise had stole his words anyway, so might as well follow orders.

Seeming satisfied with his silence, Lydia graced him with a pat on the head (and, okay, yeah, that did feel really good), and then snapped toward the bed. “Lie down.”

Oh. _Oh!_ Was she going to...? Were they going to...? Yes, Ma’am! Stiles managed not to scramble excitedly onto the bed, but he did get on with a bit more enthusiasm than the situation really called for. Flopping over onto his back, he watched her, waiting to see if Lydia would be joining him.

Holding up a hand, she quirked an eyebrow. “Stay.”

Then she turned on her heel and went through the door.

Well, then.

Groaning, Stiles scrubbed his hands over his face. Great. This was some kind of joke then, wasn’t it? Lydia was going and getting her camera so that she could take a picture and show it to Jackson and everyone else she pleased. If he had any sense at all, he’d get up now and take off the stupid collar and just leave before she could make his humiliation any more complete.

Raising his hands, he ran them over the collar, then froze. There was something unquestionably hot about wearing this. It wasn’t even so much that it was a collar, and all that implied. It was more that it was a _dog_ collar. Something he’d never looked at twice before. Something that Lydia would have gone out and bought specifically for this, but no one would have ever realized. Innocent on the surface.

A shiver ran through him, and Stiles let his fingers walk over the thick material, stepping from where one pawprint theoretically was to the other. Every time his hand ran over the clip, he let it slip back off. It was stupid of him, but Stiles _wanted_ to believe that Lydia wasn’t out to hurt him. That this was something she wanted - that she wanted him, even if it wasn’t the way he’d always hoped. For all he thought about worst case scenarios and tried to combat Scott’s moments of wide-eyed idealism, Stiles could be an optimist, when the mood struck.

The door swung back open, and Lydia stood there with... something, in her hand. It was a little hard to pay attention, because she’d removed her shirt, leaving her in only a bra and... um... what was he supposed to be doing again? “Stop playing with that.” Moving over to the bed, she swatted at his hands, and Stiles’ dropped them obediently, snapping his eyes up to meet her and _keep them there_.

Like Erica, she obviously saw through the maneuver and chuckled. “You can look.” Stiles’ eyes went wide with shock and disbelief, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s why I took my shirt off.” Her tone was back to scathing, familiar in a kind of pathetic way, and that relaxed him enough to let him look. Without thinking about it, he raised a hand to try and touch, but she slapped it away as casually as she had before. “No. You can _look_. You don’t get to touch.”

Yeah, that sounded about right. Story of his life.

Still, now that he could look, Stiles was gunna take advantage. And he did, watching the smooth shape of them move as she crept closer. Grabbing the edge of his shirt, Lydia yanked it up and over his head. Stiles winced when the collar caught on his... uh... collar, yanking it uncomfortably. Once that was thrown carelessly across the room, her fingers slid down to the fly of his jeans, and then paused.

Stiles jolted, somehow shocked by that, despite the obvious intentions. Arching a perfect brow at him, Lydia stared at him for just a second, giving him a chance to say no. And, yeah, he kind of appreciated the thought, but _no fucking way_ was he saying no to this. So he nodded, small but sure, and her eyes went a little bright before turning back and pulling his fly open.

“You know you aren’t supposed to snoop through a girl’s things,” Lydia commented, almost casually, as she yanked his pants down. “And now I have to get you back for it. Really, it’s a pain for everyone.”

Swallowing hard, Stiles gave a sharp nod. “I, uh... sorry?”

The toothy grin reappeared, and Lydia looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Oh, you will be.”

With that, she yanked down his boxers again, making him give a little yelp of shock. This time she ignored him, instead taking what had been in her hands and waving it in front of his face. It was an electric toothbrush. What, was she going to brush his dick? Because Stiles was good about hygiene, thanks so much. Even if he wasn’t, the last thing that part of him needed was orthodontia.

Then Lydia clicked the button on the side, and the whole thing started to shake lightly. And that’s when Stiles got it.

Before he could react to the realization, Lydia brought down the still buzzing base of the toothbrush on Stiles’ cock.

Giving a noise that was too breathless to be a proper scream, Stiles’ hands dug into the mattress and he arched into the touch. Lydia’s other hand came up to rest on his hip, pushing him down with a disapproving ‘tsk’. Really, Stiles would have cared about her disapproval a whole long more if there she wasn’t using a toothbrush - possibly _hers_ on him, and wow. Um. 

It was the same thing as the collar, really. There was a weird thrill from the fact that what she was using weren’t sex toys or something. They were just ordinary, everyday objects that Lydia got creative with, and maybe tonight she would use this like normal (after a good washing, more than likely) and _holy shit_ that was hot.

But Stiles was all skin and bones and words, and so his odd angle kept him from being able to fight her grip. Instead he was helpless as she held onto the plastic top and ran the impromptu vibrator up and down his shaft. With a smirk, she dug the edge of the base into his slit and oh God that was so good it was almost painful.

The fact that Stiles never shut up normally meant it wasn’t really a surprise to either of them when he was noisy in bed. Personally, Stiles had always expected to babble on, and probably sound stupid in the process. But instead there weren’t words, just soft noises and whines as he dug his heels into the covers and tried to beg for release.

Eyes going even darker, Lydia’s lips curled up at the edges, and she slid the brush down, past his balls, and pressed hard at the little bit of skin in front of his ass. Stiles _jumped_ and a high pitched keen stumbled out of him. He hadn’t known that spot could feel so good, and holy _fuck_ did it feel good.

That was all it took to push him over the edge, and Stiles shook as he came, splashing over his chest. Lydia’s hand retreated, and she reached over and grabbed a box of tissues from her bedside table. Dumping it next to him, she leaned back and watched as Stiles took them and wiped himself clean.

“I, uh... Should I be doing something for you?” Licking his lips, Stiles tilted his up to watch her, eyes wide.

Lounging back, Lydia scoffed and tossed her head. “Oh, no. Not at all. You’re the one who falls apart. Not me.” Well, he couldn’t really argue that. Shrugging, she reached over and grabbed her laptop, bringing it over to rest in her lap. “Now are we going to finish this or not?”

Scooting up, Stiles hesitated for a moment before tilting his head like he wanted to rest his head on her arm. Lydia paused, eyeing him, but didn’t stop him, so he did. After a second, her fingers started to pet through the short hairs, and Stiles let himself relax more than he had in... well, in a long time.

Later, when they’d made good progress in the book and Lydia was shepherding him out, Stiles felt her hand slip into his pocket. When he got into his Jeep, he pulled out the collar. Slowly, a smile spread across his face, and he slipped it back in.

With the collar heavy in his pocket, Stiles pulled out and drove away. He’d be back. They both knew it.


End file.
